


Code Yellow

by InevitableBladders (TheTimelessChild0)



Series: America's Bladder [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Clint is An Asshole, Embarrassment, Language, Urination, bladdershy steve, meetings, not russian
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630653
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/InevitableBladders
Summary: Maybe they should've made a cardboard sign instead...
Series: America's Bladder [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1649515
Kudos: 10





	Code Yellow

Steve didn’t typically mind meetings. It was the best way for the team to rebuild itself after Germany. The problem was, that they were unbearably boring. Like, the worst nonsense he’d ever heard, and those old war-time newsreels at the cinema were _bad_. So, as a remedy, he’d gotten into the regimen of slowly sipping water to occupy his thoughts. This wasn’t usually an issue. Except when it was. 

There had been a couple of _incidents_ , who were NOT incidents, where Cap was sprinting out of the room as soon as Fury said “let’s take”. 

Steve had to fight the urge to grumble, as he once again found himself in front of Nicholas J “let’s talk about your bladder” Fury.

“I made it this time,” he spat out bitterly.

“What if I’d said, “let’s take a bite out of our subway sandwiches?” Fury commented, smirking. 

Rogers looked at his superior officer as if he’d grown another head, bursting out laughing. 

“You wouldn’t, sir. You eat your sandwiches cut through the middle. What if it was a 6-inch?” Steve pointed out. 

“Oh, someone thinks highly of themselves. Serum grew you that big?” Nick feigned surprise. 

“Well, now I’m blushing for an entirely _different_ reason,” the super-soldier replied, scratching his neck awkwardly, unable to respond properly. 

And that, is how they came up with the code word. 

***************

There was one thing, in particular, Steve wished hadn’t been present in the period he woke up in; Coca Cola. The bottles on the conference room table were so damn enticing.. _Language, Rogers…_

Before he’d even scanned what the hell, _heck_ , Fury was talking about, he’d downed three bottles. 

Luckily, by some miracle, the sugar in the bottles occupied his homeostasis enough for him not feel his bladder at all for a while. But, the caramel colour which definitely wasn’t an ingredient in the 40s, made him queasy. So he drank regular water to stifle the urge to throw up. Which was a fluid that did go into his bladder at the usual pace.

Steve found himself putting first one, then two hands between his legs underneath the table. For some reason, maybe 70 years gave him enhanced time-keeping, or whatever..he felt it was too early to excuse himself. 

Not too long after, the super-soldier was holding himself with one hand and bouncing both legs. Nick raised an eyebrow behind his eyepatch at him. He knew that look. It was the “speak up about your need to pee”-look. You didn’t have to be a rocket scientist like Tony, nor drink as much as him..to know that it was time. Cap raised a trembling hand slowly. 

“Yes?” Nick kept his voice casual. 

  
“Would it be possible for me to take a minute to stretch my legs?” Steve asked keeping his eyes away from his teammates confidently. 

Fury waved, and Steve marched out of the room. 

Of course, all the Avengers had realised what was up. Even Thor recognised the speed as similar, to the one his brother used to leave the throne room, during diplomatic events. 

But no one said a word, until he returned.

* * *

It was a much easier meeting. He’d been sipping steadily on a water bottle, almost as tall as a thermos, throughout. Steve couldn’t help saluting as he raised two fingers swiftly in the air. 

“Do you need a break?” Fury challenged him, being slightly more pointed, with his language. 

  
“Yeah, if you don’t mind. I’m tall..us trees need to stretch our legs,” Steve shrugged, blushing subtly. 

“Hey don’t forget about us short guys. This is not a good chair, Nick,” a voice piped up. 

In the corner of the room, sitting on a high chair, probably on purpose, was Clint Barton. 

_How the..hell..had he forgotten about Clint?!_

“There _are_ other chairs, Francis,” Nick pointed at the other unused low chairs.

Fury attempted to get Barton to stay, so Steve could use the moment of all eyes on Clint to shuffle out. 

“Hey, he needs the height advantage. Stretching’s good for the joints,” the captain agreed, sitting back down tensely. 

“You know what else is good for the joints?..relaxing them!” Fury hinted. 

“Good point. You know, as a matter of fact, I’m quite hydrated for a man with heightened metabolism. I’ll be right back,” Steve gestured downwards without a care in the world, leaving the room shaking his head. 

Clint waited for him outside the bathroom. This was something he honestly _hadn’t_ picked up on. 

“You know, for a man with all the great pep talks, peeing makes you unusually quiet,” he remarked, smirking as Steve exited the restroom. 

“What, you never noticed?” Cap sighed, looking curiously at Clint. 

“That Mr Perfect Teeth is also Mr Shy Guy? _You’re_ the one that pays too much attention to that sort of thing,” the archer noted.

“Not enough or I would’ve noticed you,” Steve scoffed. 

“Oh right, sorry for interrupting your little ‘totally not going to pee’ fake-out,” he apologised. 

“It’s alright. Hey, maybe I’ll be able to excuse myself like everybody else next time. I sort of just did,” Cap realised. 

“Yeah, and Fury is nice to the rest of us too, so there’s no danger, joining the ‘can I please go pee’ movement,” Clinton assured him.

“Well, I’d like to join the ‘Can we please stop talking about going pee’ movement,” Steve requested, looking at Barton firmly. 

The younger man proceed to make pee _noises_ instead, right next to his serum-enhanced ears. 

  
“La la la, I can’t hear you,” Steve said triumphantly, sticking his fingers in his ears. 

“Yes you can, fingers don’t beat super serum,” Clint reminded him, continuing the noise. 

“That’s it, Clinton Francis Barton, shut your fucking mouth!” Rogers barked at him. The whole room stared at him. 

“Motherfucker’s right, lil Frankie,” Fury took the obvious side. 

“Language, both of you,” Nat scolded in jest.

“Sorry, I don’t speak Russian,” Steve poked her, getting back in his seat. 

Bruce and Tony both promptly lost their minds laughing.

**SILENCE!!!!!!!**

The table broke under Mjölnir, and the meeting resumed. 

The End.


End file.
